Under the Sheik's Protection. C.J. Miller

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СКАЧАТЬ didn’t want to lose the closeness and his questions were making her uncomfortable.

      He gave her credit for integrity and discretion in not revealing his name. Another woman might have bragged about the connection or caved under the pressure and given away more about the event.

      “This is Washington, D.C. You have me thinking it’s someone infamous,” Saafir said.

      Sarah laughed. “Isn’t everyone in D.C. infamous?”

      Saafir smiled, pleased she hadn’t given away any details of the contract. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. He would tell her in the morning who he was and hope she forgave him.

      * * *

      Sarah was walking on air as she entered her apartment building and tiptoed up the stairs. She didn’t want to risk the neighbors complaining about the early morning disturbance. The sun had begun to rise and though she’d had little sleep, she wasn’t tired.

      For the first time in months, she’d had fun. She was awake and alive and she’d had a wonderful time with a man. A handsome man who had treated her like a queen. His sexual appetite had been insatiable and she’d been as surprised about her response to him. She’d wanted him as much and as often as he’d wanted her. It had been the best birthday she’d had in years. Maybe this was the beginning of a new chapter in her life.

      When she told Krista and Molly about the night, she felt confident she had done everything right. She hadn’t lingered too long or created an awkward morning situation. A quick kiss on his forehead and she’d dressed and bolted.

      She pulled her keys out of her handbag and froze when she found the door ajar. Had she forgotten to pull it closed behind her? Another more distressing thought raced through her mind. Alec had bailed on rehab and had broken into her home. It wouldn’t be the first time.

      Sarah pushed open the door and turned on the light, expecting to find her ex-husband passed out on the floor.

      If Alec had been here, he had been in a rage. Her home was destroyed. The stuffing from her couch was bursting from the cushions, papers were strewn across the floor and dishes and glasses were smashed on the ground. Her granite countertops were scratched and chipped. Red spray paint covered her furniture and the carpet. A nasty word was scrawled across the wall in blinding orange.

      A sob caught in her throat. She didn’t want to look, but she couldn’t turn away, either. Who had done this? Another thought tripped her shock into fear. The person who had done this could still be inside.

      Why would someone do this? She had nothing worth stealing, except maybe her computer, a five-year-old laptop she used for work. Her jobs! She would be lost without her lists and spreadsheets. Had they been destroyed, as well?

      Torn between wanting to run inside and to run away, she hesitated for a moment. But then logic prevailed and she rushed out of her apartment and down to the street level. Fumbling for her phone, she took four tries to dial 9-1-1.

Chapter 2

      Sarah held her cell phone and listened to the caterer apologize for the tenth time. She didn’t need to apologize. She needed to get to the meeting so Sarah would have the breakfast spread ready when the trade committee arrived.

      Months of preparing and rechecking and confirming—and yet the meeting room was in a state of chaos. She blamed whoever had ransacked her apartment. She had located some of her printed documents on the event, but some were missing in the mess. Her laptop had been smashed. It was with a computer repair and data recovery company, but they’d told her it was unlikely they’d recover anything since the hard drive had been removed and mangled.

      Alec’s whereabouts had been confirmed as still in the rehab facility, and Sarah felt guilty for suspecting that he could have vandalized her place. Holding him accountable for her problems wasn’t fair. She had to take responsibility for the successes and failures in her life. The way the day was shaping up, the first meeting would be a big check in the fail column. She couldn’t let Owen down. He’d stuck his neck out getting her this job.

      Without the benefit of her notes, Sarah was relying on memory for the event details. She’d decided to temporarily stay with Molly who had helped her reconstruct what she could remember. Sarah was missing huge chunks of information that would be needed at the worst possible time. This was the biggest event she had ever planned: a week-long series of meetings, hotel accommodations, meals and entertainment.

      Her resume-boosting event was quickly turning into a reputation smasher.

      Sarah needed to stay unemotional and think on her feet. Handling a late caterer went with the territory. Could she find a local donut shop and buy some hold-over food? Getting off on the right foot with the trade agreement committee—in other words, having something to serve more than coffee and tea—was crucial.

      “My GPS says I’ll be there in ten minutes,” the caterer said.

      In D.C. morning traffic, that meant thirty. Sarah reminded herself that losing it on the caterer wouldn’t make the food arrive faster. “Come directly to the back entrance. I’ll meet you there.”

      Sarah disconnected her call. After sending someone to buy muffins and donuts at a nearby shop, Sarah turned her attention to the meeting room.

      Owen, the chairman of the committee, had arrived and was sitting at the end of the conference table, his leather binder open in front of him. Happy to see a familiar face, Sarah hurried to greet him.

      “Good morning, Owen,” she said, slipping her arm around his shoulder and kissing his cheek.

      “How’s everything going?” he asked, looking around the room with a scrutinizing gaze.

      She wouldn’t let anyone see her sweat. She hadn’t told him about the break-in at her apartment, and she wouldn’t burden him with it now. Her personal problems did not enter this space. “The caterer is running a little late, but I have coffee and tea ready. I sent someone to pick up donuts to tide us over. Do you know if there were any problems at the hotel? I called the front desk last night to confirm everything was set for the emir, but he hadn’t arrived yet. Is he planning to check in before this meeting or later?”

      Owen touched her shoulder. “Relax. If there was a problem, we would have heard about it. I am sure the accommodations will be fine.”

      Sarah’s tone must have given away her anxiety. She relaxed her shoulders. Coming off tense and edgy wouldn’t accomplish the job she’d been given.

      “I heard from the rehab center early this morning,” Owen said, lowering his voice.

      Her anxiety shot up again. “Did something happen?” she asked, regretting immediately that she had. She’d wanted to close the door on that part of her life. If Alec had left rehab, if he had run away or had gotten into an altercation with the staff or one of the patients she couldn’t afford another place. As it was, she was counting on the payment for this job to cover most of the expense.

      “He’s refusing to take part in the group therapy. If he doesn’t cooperate he’ll be kicked out of the program,” Owen said.

      This time, rehab had been court-mandated thanks to an assault charge from a barroom brawl. If Alec left rehab, he was headed to jail. The idea of it made her feel sick. Alec couldn’t see how serious СКАЧАТЬ